Metro Journal: May 16 Where Will I Spend Eternity?

I had to be at work 2 hours early for a training course. I am just not a morning person. Then I realize, hey, around 7:30, there aren't as many cars on the road to annoy me. Then I realize I'd be driving home somewhere between 4-5. My father has a truism, and it's actually one of the few for which I have never seen evidence to the contrary: on Fridays, everyone drives two cars home from work. I take the bus.

The rundown: wave bye-bye to the 780 from across the street. Know I will miss DASH so get off at Western.

While I'm waiting at the corner of Hollywood and Western for a southbound bus, an elderly woman approaches me, sticking a pamphlet under me nose. She says something is Spanish, then says, "In English." The cover of the pamphlet says, "Where will you spend eternity?". I smile politely and shake my head.

What is it about me that makes people think my soul needs saving so badly? Or maybe they're just too afraid to approach the people whose souls clearly do need saving because they're so damned scary-looking.


That evening, the 780 takes forever to show. I'd been waiting about 25 minutes (I could tell because another Hollywood-Wilshire DASH passes) when a woman who'd been there when I got there said she'd been waiting 30 minutes. It finally shows up about 5 minutes later and is full-to-bursting. Plus it was such a hot day that a lot of people smell a little rank. I get a seat at the next stop, but the person next to me smells a little rank.

Anyway, I already know where I will be spending eternity: at a bus stop, waiting for a bus.